


Help me

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Baby Louis, Bottom Louis, Comfort/Angst, Daddy Harry, Daddy Kink, Dom Harry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Panic Attacks, Smut, Sub Louis, Therapy, Top Harry, Underage Louis, Underage Sex, Virgin Louis, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which 15 year old Louis Tomlinson has an anxiety disorder and searches for help in his 32 years old therapist Harry Styles who he fell for a few months ago</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help me

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys. Since this is my first fic here on this website, i probably have to make some things clear.
> 
> 1 - english isn't my native language, so if there are some grammatical mistakes or parts that don't sound very good, i'm sorry for that. 
> 
> 2 - since this story is based on a anxiety disorder, i'll put this sign: • in front and at the end of these scenes. But since it's written in the Tags and in the summery, i hope you can handle it.
> 
> 3 - this story contains underage smut, but please don't complain about that. 
> 
> i think that was all, i hope you'll enjoy this story as much as i did while i was writing it.

I let out a shaky breath as I placed my hand on the handle and opened the thick wooden door. My eyes immediately scanned the big room, but nothing's changed. The dark desk was still in front of the window that was taking up the whole wall. The other three walls were covered by big bookshelves. Two black couches were placed in the middle of the room, both in an angle of 90 degrees to one another. 

Mr. Styles was sitting at his desk, but now looked up from some documents. His long brown curls rested on his in a tight black suit covered shoulders. He sized me up with his piercing emerald eyes, dimples appearing on his cheeks as a grin slowly started to grow on his lips. 

He gave me goosebumps and made my heart race, the same symptoms I had when I had one of my anxiety attacks - but I wasn't panicking. 

"Oh, Louis!" Mr. Styles said delightedly and got up from his chair, making that's legs scrape against the floor. I screwed up my face at the screeching sound. "No need to be reserved, come in." 

I nodded in a rush, walked in and closed the door behind me. I then hesitantly turned around again, nervously playing with my fingers. I've always been shy in presence of other people, even my own parents and sisters. But that was one disadvantage my disorder involved and today it was even worse.

Mr. Styles approached me with big strides, putting his hand out and I shook it quickly - he squeezed mine lightly in the firm handshake. I was sure his smile should be comforting, but it only made my breath speed up. 

"What's wrong? Your hands are cold and you usually aren't that nervous," Mr. Styles asked and slowly released my hand. I only huffed at that and shrugged. 

Mr. Styles sighed. "Well, c'mere, boy, sit down," he suggested and pointed at one of the couches, then placed one hand on my lower back and guided me towards it. I looked up at him and noticed another time how much taller Mr. Styles was. When he also looked down at me, I immediately stared at one of the bookshelves to hide my blush. 

I sat down on one couch and Harry did the same, only on the other one. He crossed his legs, then took a pad and a pen and looked interestedly at me, obviously waiting for me to explain things. 

After I didn't say anything for five minutes, only avoiding his eye, Mr. Styles sighed another time. "I know, Louis, that you don't like speaking to others, but if you don't cooperate, I have to-"

"I think it's getting worse," I interrupted him quietly. I pulled my legs against my upper body, surrounding them with my arms, and rested my cheek on my knees, so I could look at Mr. Styles. He wrote something down on the pad, then watched me carefully. 

"In what way?" Mr. Styles asked, eyebrows scrunching as he started to think about my words. 

"Uh...," I breathed. "I'm more nervous, I'm more worried about everything and I fear more things. There are some days where I don't want to go outside anymore... And my attacks go on longer."

Mr. Styles sighed, then put the pad back on the table. He clenched the pen between his pink plump lips and it distracted me so much, that I only noticed the worried, discontent look on his face after a few seconds.

"What?" I asked confusedly, lips almost not moving. I played with the bracelet that I wore on my left wrist. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what Mr. Styles was thinking about. 

"Do you... have a girlfriend?" 

I froze. There were many things that came through my mind at this very moment. 1. Why did he want to know that? 2. How was I supposed to tell Mr. Styles that I was gay? 3. Was this really what he actually was thinking about? 4. Why was this question making me feel so flustered? 

"I, uh... N-No?" 

"Why are you saying that in that tone?" Mr. Styles asked, he was obviously confused. 

I bit my bottom lip until it hurt and I tasted the metallic liquid on my tongue, but I didn't care. My cheeks were flushed red. "I-I'm... gay," I whispered, hoping that he didn't hear it, but as I looked up at him, I saw a weird sparkle in his eyes that I couldn't explain. 

"Oh, okay, so... So do you have a boyfriend?" Mr. Styles asked, a weird tone in his voice. 

I shook my head. "No, I don't..."

No, I didn't have a boyfriend. And I really shouldn't tell Mr. Styles, that I had a crush on him, my seventeen years older therapist. I was absolutely insane. 

"Why do you want to know that?" 

Mr. Styles seemed to think about his answer first, before he spoke. "I think that it'd be good for you to have someone at your age who you love and who loves you back. I think he would be able to help you with your anxiety in a way I'm not able to help you, Louis... And this brings us to the next point..." 

I furrowed my eyebrows, but Mr. Styles only sighed; he seemed to think about his words again. So I sat straight up again, crossed my legs like him and waited for his answer. "I think you should try out a new therapist... Don't misunderstand me, Louis, it's not because you're gay. You may think that because I'm telling you this now after you told me that you're gay," Mr. Styles floundered. "But your disorder didn't get any better since you're here, in fact you told me it's getting worse. And I don't know, maybe someone else could help you better than I do."

At that point my world shattered into a billion pieces. It may sound childish and overstated, but my heart broke. I didn't have any friends because no one wanted to hang out with someone like me, and not even my family was better than them. They were unable to cope with me because I always was so nervous around them. And in the last year, Mr. Styles has seemed to be the only one who understood me. Yes, that was his job, of course, but I seriously felt like he understood me. But now he wanted to shunt me off like everybody else has done before. 

• And I felt an anxiety attack coming. 

My heart was racing, my skin was getting colder as it already was, I couldn't hear the other words Mr. Styles was saying. I felt like someone had stuffed cotton into my ear. I wasn't able to feel my hands and feet, and I could only stare out of the window that was in front of me. 

I felt a big hand on my shoulder shaking my body carefully. "Louis," Mr. Styles said emphatically. As I didn't respond, he stood up and hurried to sit down next to me. One of his hands was still placed on my shoulder, and the other one was brought under my chin to make me look up at him. 

"Boy, everything's alright. You don't have to make a decision right away, if that's what bothers you. We can still figure it out." 

I hesitantly shook my head, over and over again. "D-Don't-" I stuttered, still moving my head, but I couldn't stop until Mr. Styles placed his hands on my cheeks and gently caressed them. I still wasn't able to do anything, but staring straight into his eyes for what I normally would've been too shy. •

Green met blue. 

Luckily, it was a short attack and Mr. Styles was able to help me out of it. Soon enough I was facing the truth again and hurried to break our eye contact. I slightly turned away from him, staring at the floor. I hoped he won't notice the tears that were now filling my eyes. 

Mr. Styles would never love me back, nor would he even guess that I fell for him. But that was exactly what I've been persuading myself of when he caressed my cheeks. 

"Louis," Mr. Styles said quietly and I could hear in his voice that he exactly knew it wouldn't need much to make the tears start streaming down my face. He placed his hand on my thigh and I looked down at it, sniffling. 

I then quickly shook my head. "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Styles," I said, slowly looking up at him, but I couldn't see much of him because of my blurry vision. "I'm overreacting, I shouldn't-"

"Louis," Mr. Styles then whispered again. I didn't respond this time, only waited for what he wanted to say. "I know that I shouldn't have just blurted it out like that and that therapist changes aren't good for people with an anxiety disorder since they don't-"

I shook my head and laughed sarcastically, though a tear was running down my cheek. "You don't understand it, not this time," I murmured. "It's not about my disorder..."

I gasped when I noticed that I was about to tell him about my feelings because that was inappropriate. But just as I wanted to stand up and hurry out of this room, Mr. Styles let out a quiet "Ah" and I knew that he now grasped what I was really talking about. 

I closed my eyes, didn't even dare to look at him anymore. What did he think about me now? 

"Louis, breathe," Mr. Styles said quietly, I could hear that he was smiling, and I noticed that I really was holding my breath. I inhaled deeply and Mr. Styles hummed contentedly. "Good boy... Now look at me."

I hesitantly opened my eyes, only to jerk because I didn't notice that Mr. Styles was already so close to me. His lips were almost touching the corner of my mouth. I looked from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes again. I couldn't think straight anymore, there was nothing in my head except of Mr. Styles and how close he was. 

"No need to be ashamed," he whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips onto mine. I gasped into the kiss, my eyes were still open, and I didn't dare to move somehow or other. Mr. Styles' lips were soft and moved gentle against mine, making me give up and let me fall into the kiss. I shyly placed my hand on his chest. 

Mr. Styles interrupted our kiss quickly and gave me the chance to inhale sharply, before our lips met another time. He licked over my bottom lip, then bit down on it and I moaned quietly. I couldn't do anything against these feelings Mr. Styles awoke inside of me. 

"What was that?" he smirked, then slowly brought my body down onto the couch. He crawled over me until I was laying underneath him, his chest pressed against mine. 

"Such a pretty baby...," Mr. Styles whispered. He placed one last kiss on my lips, then left a trail of them down my neck. He nibbled at my collarbone, sucked on it. My eyes were closed and loud huffs were leaving my lips. 

I almost jumped when I felt his hands under my shirt, his skin hot compared with mine. His fingers left a tingling trace where he touched me. After a few seconds Mr. Styles tugged at my shirt. "Take that off. The jeans, too."

So I nodded and hurried to duff it, but when I was done I looked questioningly at Mr. Styles. He only took it and threw it behind his desk, then winked at me and leaned in. His tongue left a wet trail on my tummy. I couldn't even think about the fact that I was laying half naked under a way too old man. 

"You're wearing lace?" He asked then and I remembered that I just bought them. It was a creamy color, but didn't hide anything. The tip of my dick was even already poking out of it and I could only blush because of that. 

"Can you be quiet or are you a loud one?" Mr. Styles suddenly asked and I looked at him in confusion. Not only was my mind clouded, but also didn't I know what he was talking about. So I decided not to answer, but wait for him to explain it. 

"Hm, we'll see..." He only murmured when he understood that I wouldn't say anything. Mr. Styles smirked and I just wanted to ask why he was acting so weirdly when he started to suck on my hard nipple. I arched my back and let out a loud moan that was immediately shushed by Mr. Styles hand. 

He hummed which made me gasp because of the vibration I felt at my nipple. "Sh, we don't want anyone to hear us, do we?" He murmured. "Can you be quiet for me, baby?" 

I only nodded at that because yes, I would try it. So Mr. Styles released my mouth slowly, just to start sucking again. I bit my cheek and hid my hands in the man's curls, but I couldn't stop quiet moans leaving my lips. I was breathing heavily and all my muscles were flexed, I couldn't relax. 

"Good boy, do you think you can handle a bit more?" Mr. Styles asked at that moment, but before I even had the chance to answer, I felt his hand on my crotch and hissed. By this time I was already painfully hard. 

Mr. Styles hurried to cover my mouth with his other hand again, before he started to massage me through my trousers and sucked on the other nipple. I moaned high pitched and very loud and tugged on Mr. Styles' hair. I jerked when I felt his thumb brushing over my tip. 

"Mr. Styles, I-" 

"I know, baby," he interrupted me quietly. "Cum for me now." And it was probably this dominant, almost harsh tone in his voice that eventually made me cry out in pleasure, throw my head in my neck and cum all over Mr. Styles' suit. 

I was breathing heavily, sweat made my forehead shine and my heart was racing, the same symptoms I had when I had one of my anxiety attacks - but I wasn't panicking. 

"I've never-... I mean, that was my first-" I stuttered, but didn't finish the sentence because I blushed immensely. I ran my hand through my hair and tried to recover my breath. 

"Ever?" Mr. Styles asked surprisedly.

"Ever." 

"Well, in that case you also have to experience other things with me, don't you?" He asked.

A smile grew on my lips as I giggled at that. "Yes, I probably do."

**Author's Note:**

> did you enjoy it? :)  
> There will be at least one other chapter btw :)


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